Love Alone Is Worth The Fight
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: After his brother reveals family secrets, Reepicheep goes on a journey to find his absentee father only to discover darker secrets and sinister plans that if come to furition could destroy everything. Literally. First of a pentalogy.
1. Prologue

**Love Alone is Worth the Fight**

* * *

**Inspired by the song _"Love Alone is Worth the Fight"_ by Switchfoot**

**Dedicated to the children in America who currently have an incarcerated parent, a one parent household, no parents at all and are looking for answers, a way out, a better life, and a chance. **

**You're not alone- you never were.**

* * *

**Prologue: Reepicheep's Father**

"A boy needs his father."

"Yes, a father who's _there_ _for him_, you're practically a ghost."

Reepicheep's mother and father had been going on like this for three months. At the moment, they were in their kitchen, which was simple and typical of the area. Large with handcrafted touches, a large sink, a large table with about twelve chairs to accommodate frequently visiting family and friends as well as two children. At one end was a threshold to the living room, on the other were three doors: the left was Charvep's room, the right was Reepicheep's, the middle was the parents.

A small chandelier of candles hung over the table, the flames flickered a bit.

"I promise everything will straighten out when this war is over." The father said, who was sitting in one of the outside chairs of the table towards the sink.

"That's the problem, when will this war be over?" His wife, who was standing near the sink finishing up dishes, looked at him with a skeptical eye and disapproving disposition.

The husband gave no answer, he didn't want to. War was his survival, the mother knew this.

"You live in war Chevrep," she said putting the dish on the counter and turning towards him, "it's your profession. It's what you've always done and continue to do, but you have to make a choice- your family or your brothers."

"You cannot ask me to make that." Chevrep said.

"Why can't I!" She screamed and advanced towards him, "Why can't I ask you to be a father!"

"Because I wasn't meant to be one!" Chevrep replied with equal intensity and force as he stood up.

His wife struck him on the cheek, the burning sensation went through Chevrep's entire face. He looked back at her as if he were about to give an execution sentence. The senior mouse then walked into the living room which was next door and pulled his blade which was currently resting on a rack that was mounted on the wall.

Saying nothing, Chevrep entered the kitchen, blade extended, and advanced toward his wife.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"You dare strike an officer of the realm?" Chevrep asked. "You do realize that it _is_ a form a treason."

"Chevrep please, you're being-"

"Ridiculous?" He said in a mocking way, the mouse smile was lupine as he pointed the tip of his blade to her sternohyoid. The sternohyoid is the thin muscle at the neck that causes speech, but Chevrep wasn't aiming for that. Instead, his target was something for more vital, the sternothyroid muscle, which depresses the larynx and aides in the eating process.

"Do you wish to starve?" He asked.

"You're mad!" She cried.

"You say I'm never there, that I'm a disgrace, that I'm never going to be anything but a warhorse?"

"Because you are! We can work on those things though." She said trying to give the best smile she could. "Hope is not all lost."

Chevrep did not cease his urge, he moved his sword back for his honor and looked at his wife for his sanity. His head was fitting his heart and he didn't realize this. The mother closed her eyes, for she knew that she couldn't say anything to stop him. Chevrep's sword advanced upon her like a wolf does prey, quickly, and without remorse.

When all was quiet again, the warrior stood over the trophy and saw the reason why he fell in love. Her eyes were emeralds, and reminded him daily of his commitments. To be a husband, a friend, a loyal solider, and the one he denounced, a parent.

Tilden and Reepicheep opened their doors due to the commotion. Tilden was older by a year but Reepicheep was precocious. As soon as the latter mouse saw a hint of despair he turned away and went back to his dreams. Tilden stayed and looked at his father.

"Did you see anything?" Chevrep asked.

Tilden shook his head.

"Good boy," the father said, "take care of him."

"Are you leaving again?"

Chevrep nodded, "I don't know how long this time or if I'll be back at all. This may be the last time we see each other."

Tilden walked over to his father and embraced him, Chevrep slowly embraced him back, he wasn't used to acts of love.

"I love you father." Tilden said.

Chevrep replied with the usual response: "I love you too"

After this, the senior mouse mustered all the courage, pride, and dignity he had and exited. Not a word was spoken. Tilden watched his father open the door. A blue light filled the floor. Chevrep walked through the threshold of his door and was gone.

"Be safe." Tilden said to only himself as he made to a storage closet to grab a shovel.

He returned in an hour, the evidence removed, the eulogy said, and the tears fallen. Tilden returned to bed at five in the morning. He would rise in three hours, the same time his father died...

Presumably.


	2. Veer Right, Keep Straight

Chapter I: Veer Right, Keep Straight

NOTE: Assume that characters age the same way humans do.

Tilden was making tea one morning in the kitchen when Reepicheep was coming in from a day of fishing.

"I dread the sound of his key in the lock." Tilden said because he knew that Reepicheep's key was an old one that made a considerable clanking noise as it was being put in the locking mechanism and turned to open the door.

Reepicheep walked through the threshold, in his hand was his blade which sported an impaled salmon. The mouse with the fish walked into the kitchen and removed his blade from the fish and began cleaning it for supper. Tilden just sat, drank his tea, and watched him, periodically humming a tune to himself.

An awkward silence followed as Reepicheep began to skin the fish of scales and carve into the innards, removing the guts and unnecessary muscle to get to the meat. Tilden continued his watching. The chandelier candles flickered a bit.

"I thought you said you were getting trout?" Tilden said.

"I was," Reepicheep replied, "but salmon sounded more appropriate for supper."

"Isn't food appropriate for supper?" Tilden asked a bit confused as to why a salmon was appropriate as opposed to a trout which for some reason wasn't.

"Yes but salmon just felt right to me."

Tilden nodded, still finding it odd but let it slide and went back to his tea.

Soon, the smell of fish guts and entrails became so empowering that it awoke Marian, Tilden's wife of five years, and his son, Solomon, who was turning seven in three months.

"Ugh, Reep you smell like the fish." Marian said as she walked in.

"Well, one does tend to smell like the thing he cooks and prepares." Reepicheep said.

Marian rolled her eyes and sat next to her husband, "Whatever smartass."

Reepicheep smiled and thought, Nice to see you too.

Solomon came in moments later. He yawned and had the disposition of who did not like to wake up at seven o'clock in the morning.

"Can you please stop making so much noise?" He said.

Reepicheep turned, saw his nephew and smiled. "Oh forgive me Your Majesty," he said playing the game he and Solomon invented, "I didn't realize of the fuss, please don't think ill of me."

Solomon turned, saw his uncle and smiled big and large. Instantly he played his role and did so magnificently. "You shall be dealt with later, you told me that it would never happen again!"

"Of course King Solomon, oh surely it will never happen again." Reepicheep said, smiling.

"It also smells terrible in here." Solomon said.

"Well, one does tend to smell like the thing he cooks and prepares." Reepicheep repeated.

"I know, I heard you, you woke me remember? I'm going in the other room." Solomon said as he went past Reepicheep and went into the living room to read one of his picture books.

Reepicheep watched him go and laughed to himself. "Precocious little fellow isn't he?"

"Just like you were." Tilden said.

"Are you worried about that?" Reepicheep asked as he continued his work.

"No." Tilden replied.

Reepicheep smiled.

Tilden finished his tea, he walked back to his room, grabbed some paper and a pen and went back into the kitchen.

"Writing a letter dear?" Marian asked.

"Yes I am." Tilden said.

Reepicheep turned his head towards his brother, "To whom?"

Tilden sighed, rolled his eyes, and said: "None of your business."

The letter was quick, simple, and to an old friend- no more than a page. When Tilden was finished, he put the letter and pen back in his room and re-entered the kitchen once again, this time, not bothering to sit down. Instead, Tilden watched his son read his little book.

"He can almost lift a sword now." Tilden said.

"I know! He's a swift learner, he'll be a fine warrior one day." Reepicheep said enthusiastically.

"You know he can't keep living these fantasies with you." Tilden replied.

"Oh come on Til, it's just a game, besides it's not hurting anything."

"It's making him soft." Tilden said.

"Well, if you two weren't going to instill some humanity somebody had to." Reepicheep said.

"Are you questioning my parenting?" Tilden asked with a skeptical and suspicious look.

"Are you questioning mine?" Reepicheep said turning away from his work, giving a lupine smile.

"I suggest," Tilden said advancing towards him, "that you remember your place."

"And you as well. You may be Chief Mouse, but you are also a father."

"What are you saying?" Tilden asked, not following him.

"You're brilliant at one but dim at another. You can't be stern with children all the time, they're not warriors."

"But they'll grow up to be." Tilden said.

"Just because warriors need skill does not mean they cannot have heart to coincide."

Tilden sighed and retreated back to his chair at the table, "You were always the poetic one."

Reepicheep smiled, "Well, you can thank Aunt Gracie for that."

Aunt Gracie was a respectable mouse who died some years ago. She was a mouse of nurture and pose, someone who had a word for everything.

"Dinner was superb," Tilden said with a smile, "my compliments to the chef."

"Why thank you," Reepicheep replied, "I thought it could've used a bit more pepper but-"

"Oh stop critiquing yourself and enjoy your accomplishment!" Marian said.

"Well, thank you both," Reepicheep said. He stood up and moved to take everyone's dishes, "Now, I'll just take these and-"

"Oh no, you've done too much work today." Marian said, "I can do them."

"No, I insist madam that I finish the job. I started it after all."

"Will you rest for once in your life!" Tilden said, "You've been up on your feet all day and must be exhausted, come here and sit down- I need to tell you something anyway."

* * *

"What brought this about?" Reepicheep said as he entered Tilden's room, a room he never been in because he was forbidden to enter it.

The room was simple and comprised of a simple double bed, a nightstand, a dresser drawer hosted a small candelabra, a rug, and a writing desk with chair located in the corner.

"Our conversation earlier," Tilden said, "sit down on the bed, what I'm about to say may produce a bit of shock."

Reepicheep nodded and did so. Tilden took the small chair from the desk and moved in front of his brother.

"There's a reason why mother isn't around."

"She's dead," Reepicheep said with a slight pause, "isn't she."

"Damn," Tilden said, "you are precocious."

"It's a character trait," the other mouse said, "father on the other hand-"

"How did you know?" Tilden said, cutting Reepicheep off.

"Know what, that mother was dead?"

Tilden nodded.

"Do you think I'm stupid? A dolt? A dunce? It isn't hard to tell when someone's gone Tilden, it was hard to know that I wouldn't be able to see her anymore, that she wouldn't be here. And father, what kind of person just leaves his children to suffer through disillusion? You keep telling them that it's okay, that it is completely normal for a father to leave. Father figures die and are replaceable. That's what you've told me my entire life, that father figures die and are replaceable. If that's true then it is a safe assumption that father never loved me anyway."

"That's not true." Tilden said.

"You really think I'm stupid don't you? You expect me to fall for parlor tricks? I know that he didn't care for me, he didn't care for you and he-"

"Reepicheep!" Tilden yelled and stood up at the same time, "Father loved me, and he loved you too."

"If he really loved you, then where is he?" Reep asked. He paused a moment, taking in Tilden's gaze at the floor, the slight shift in his weight from one foot to the other, the unsettling twitch that was slowly beginning to take over his right ear.

"You egotistical bastard!" Reepicheep continued, "you put yourself before me, and you did so because you knew. The whole time you knew and you did nothing to stop it you egotistical bastard!"

Reepicheep broke down on the floor, "Why did he leave? What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing." Tilden said. "He was born in war and he- he died in it."

"You hesitated." Reepicheep said.

"No I didn't." Tilden replied trying to save himself from revealing the real reason why he called his brother in.

"You wrote a letter earlier what was it about?" Reepicheep asked looking over to his writing desk where the note was place face up. Tilden rushed over in that direction and Reepicheep jumped across the bed and tried to race him for it.

Reepicheep won.

"Reepicheep," Tilden said, "before you start reading, there's one more thing you should know."

"What?" The other mouse said, standing on the floor on the other side of the bed, annoyed that his brother was keeping secrets from him his entire life.

"Father killed mother."

"Tilden please, you're being-"

"Ridiculous?" Tilden said in a mocking way, just like his father. "That's what she said too."

"I don't believe you." Reepicheep said.

Tilden nodded slowly and gave his brother a look of sympathy, "Ever wonder why there's a small mound of dirt near the front door?"

"No." Reepicheep answered.

"Ever ask questions when I tell you not come in here, ever?" Tilden asked.

"No."

Tilden walked towards the door. "Ever wonder why I have never told you his name?"

"N- wait, yes. I have wondered about that." Reepicheep said, "What is his name anyway?"

"Read the letter, but if I know you, and believe me, I know you, you will never step foot in the house again." Tilden said as he opened the door, walked through the threshold, and closed it, leaving Reepicheep to the letter and his thoughts.

It didn't take long to read and it didn't take long for Reepicheep to respond either. He exited the room, entered his own, and gathered his belongings which was simply: a fire starter, a container for food, a separate one for water, some small provisions, a first-aid kit, a journal, a pen, and of course, his sword and belt (which he had on anyway) all in a burlap sack. That done, he walked through the living room.

Solomon was half asleep sitting in a chair reading a book entitled Narnian Myths, Legends, and Fables, Reepicheep's favorite.

Tilden was standing near the door and Marian was making her way to bed.

"Uncle Reepicheep," the young mouse said, "can you read me a story?"

Reepicheep smiled, remembering himself at that age, put down his burlap sack and walked over to the chair.

"Veer right," Reepicheep said.

"Keep straight." Solomon finished the phrase as he moved literally to the right of the chair. The senior mouse ruffled Solomon's head furs a bit and sat down beside him.

"That's it. Now," Reepicheep said book in paws, "anything in particular you have in mind?"

"No, you can pick." Solomon said with a yawn.

Reepicheep nodded and turned to a random page towards the middle. "Ah, here we go," Reepicheep said, "this is the story of a centaur."

"Oh, tell it please!" The younger mouse replied with a smile.

"Alright then," Reepicheep cleared his throat and began:

"Long before Cair Paravel or Kings or Queens, there simply the land and the inhabitants that lived there. Everyone, for the most part, lived together peacefully: there was no war, no crime, murder, absentee fathers or-"

"That's not in the story." Solomon said.

"What, I'm sorry-"

"Absentee fathers. That's not in the story, you added it. Read it right." Solomon replied.

"Apologizes, I'm just not myself lately."

"What happened?" Solomon asked.

"Nothing to worry yourself over dear one, just a personal matter."

"Well if it's personal to you, it's personal to me too." Solomon said, "I love you too much." The younger mouse looked down at the burlap sack.

"Are you leaving?" He asked, worry in his eyes.

"For a while." Reepicheep said.

"Why?"

"I'm going to find my father." Reepicheep answered.

Tilden heard this and turned around, listened intently, but said nothing.

"Do you know how long it will take?" Solomon asked.

"I don't know yet Solomon," Reepicheep said, "but I'll be back, I promise."

"You do?" The younger mouse asked, a tear slowly forming.

"May I be dishonored if I didn't." Reepicheep said as he wiped the small tear of his nephew's face. "Don't cry, I'm not dying."

"I don't want to lose you Reep." Solomon said, hugging the senior mouse's neck and crying anyway despite Reepicheep telling him not too. Reepicheep embraced him back.

"You can never lose me." Reepicheep said. "Now," he said letting go of his nephew, "shall we continue with the story?"

Solomon yawned, "We can read it later when you get back." He said. "I'm tired anyway."

"Very well." Reepicheep said and walked him to his room.

Reepicheep tucked Solomon in bed, said prayer, and extinguished the candles. As the senior mouse made his way out of the room Solomon sat up.

"Reepicheep," Solomon said.

"Yes?" Reepicheep asked.

"Thanks for being my guard."

Reepicheep smiled and bowed, "Thank you for your employment Your Majesty."

"Promise me something," the younger one said as he resituated himself.

"What?"

"Can you adopt me?"

Reepicheep didn't answer this question. It hit him in his groin and he about keeled over. He quickly closed the door but managed to get out: "Good night"

Reepicheep gasped for air a moment, and caught his breath. Did he just ask me to be his father?

"Reepicheep," Tilden said from the living room, "are you alright what's the trouble?"

Reepicheep stood up and walked over to him, picking up his burlap sack on the way.

"Apparently," Reepicheep said, "you are."

Reepicheep opened the door and began his journey. Tilden just stood in the doorway. The moon was out, spreading blue hues on the ground and winter was about to begin. The first snow would be in roughly a week.

"Why is that?" Tilden asked.

"Your son just disowned you." Reepicheep answered.

"What do you mean?"

Reepicheep stopped and turned around "He just asked me to adopt him."

Tilden nodded with a sigh, "What am I doing wrong?"

"A boy needs his father." Reepicheep said, " a father who's there for him, you're practically a ghost."

"I'll straighten this out." Tilden said.

"That's the problem, I don't think you will," Reepicheep replied, "you don't know how to."

"Why are you asking me to be a father?" Tilden asked.

Reepicheep's eyes grew large and his temper rose slightly as he advanced. "Because you deserve to be one!"

"No I don't." Tilden said. "You do."

Reepicheep shook his head of his thoughts on the subject and switched gears: "Anything I should know before heading out?"

"Have you figured that maybe he doesn't want to be found?" Tilden asked.

"I have," Reepicheep answered, "but I'm willing to hear him say that. Anything else?"

"Yes," Tilden said, "he's been captured, a prisoner of war."

"Do you know where?"

"No."

"Well then," Reepicheep said, "best be off. I'm serious Tilden," he said, "be the father you need to be. I don't want him to end up like us and argue over stupid conversations like this. It's just not worth it."

Tilden nodded, "Good luck Reep. Veer right,"

Reepicheep took a breath as a cold gust of wind blew in, "Keep straight."

The mouse headed for Trufflehunter's part in company, part in answer, and because the letter mentioned his name.


	3. Love Alone Is Worth the Fight

**Chapter II: Love Alone is Worth the Fight**

* * *

**Note: References to The Holocaust and World War II**

* * *

"Oh good you're here," Trufflehunter said as Reepicheep stood in his doorway, "father's been acting up again."

"What has he done this time?" Reepicheep asked with an annoyed sigh, not really wanting to deal with this matter now for he knew Trufflehunter's father, Mister Marley, was somewhat of a nut.

Marley, in his prime, was a mystic. He was a phenomenal predictor of events and did so with accuracy. The problem came about seventeen years ago when Miraz usurped and became a Claudius. He started screaming a phrase over and over:

"Abate Verge Ye How!"

"There he goes again." Trufflehunter said, "He's been making me rabid with it. Abate Verge Ye How! Abate Verge Ye How! Idiot is behaving as if the world is coming to an end."

"Vexing is it?" Reepicheep asked.

"It's almost sickening," the badger replied, "I don't know what to do anymore."

"Perhaps I could be of service."

"Which is the very reason why I opened my door," Trufflehunter said, as he stepped to the side, "Come inside, it's a bit nip out."

Trufflehunter's abode was quaint, modest, and simple. A fire in the centre, two chairs in front of it, a bookshelf nearby them on the wall, a nightstand beside it, a kitchen on the other side with a small table and chairs, and a hallway down the middle to the bedrooms and wash room.

"Abate Verge Ye How!"

"This way." Trufflehunter lead Reepicheep to the furthest room away from everything. The shadow and lightlessness of the place gave Reepicheep the impression of imprisonment, as if Trufflehunter wanted his father to go insane for his own amusement. Since this question was bothering him so, the mouse turned towards the badger with skepticism.

"You venture into abysses Truff?"

"I'm sorry what are you talking about?" The badger asked.

"Your father isn't damned, just deranged. So why do you have him in a dark corner?"

"It is that time of day when light diminishes Reepicheep." The badger said.

Reepicheep nodded, taking note of the time and nonchalantly, he looked up at the walls and ceilings and into the other rooms of the house also as he slowly made his way to the door.

"Don't think of me as being jocular but I can't find a single fenestration here." Reepicheep said.

"Are you saying that because of a lack of windows I am lying about the state of the hallway?"

"Not lying exactly," Reepicheep said, "more so on the lines of secrecy. Marley is an eremite due to your fear. What exactly are you afraid of?"

"Nothing." Trufflehunter replied and moved to open the door.

Marley, Trufflehunter's father, was a graying badger who most likely had about three more good years left and five horrid ones before he passed. His eyes were unmoving, his pupils completely fixed, locked in place as if forever transfixed by a vixen.

"Who's there?" The elder badger asked, he turned towards the mouse and smiled, "Oh Chevrep, my dear boy it's been so long. How are you these days?"

Reepicheep, who was confused, looked past Marley at something else and said: "I'm sorry sir but I believe you are mistaken for another."

"Abate Verge Ye How!" Marley shouted. "Abate Verge Ye How!" Marley coughed a bit and said it again: "Abate Verge Ye How!"

The badger coughed again, this time more severe, almost asthmatic.

"I'm sorry, forgive me Chief," Marley, "I haven't been well as of late."

The mouse there and played his accustomed position of the aspirant, standing there loyally, waiting for command as if already seasoned for war and taken of innocence. Reepicheep gave a smile of awkwardness but in truth he was assessing the situation at hand.

_Here the prisoner of fear. Whatever Trufflehunter believes to be true most likely is- however, it could be fallacy._

"Father return to bed." Trufflehunter said.

"No!" Marley shouted. "You've kept me in here long enough and I want out!"

"I'm sorry but I can't let you go!" The badger said.

"Why can't you?" Reepicheep said with a hint of disappointment.

"Byron."

Reepicheep turned towards the father, smiled, and said: "Pardon the interruption sir, but you're son is about to have a scolding."

"Go ahead." Marley said, "I haven't been able to do so somebody has to."

Reepicheep bowed slightly and said:

"Gramercy Master Badger."

He closed the door.

"How much of this fear, whatever it is, how much of it is true?" Reepicheep asked.

"All of it." Trufflehunter said.

"Are you saying that an _accidental_ murder sentence needs to be carried out fully?"

"Yes."

"Marley is your father! Don't you see what you're doing? You're castigating him for something he did out of accident." Reepicheep said.

"Byron was my brother, I don't expect you to under-"

"I understand completely!" Reepicheep vociferated. "He was my brother too, believe me I grieved and mourned during the period but afterwards I moved on. If you linger in death you will surely die expeditiously. Don't have him undergo grief- your father wants to be with you! He wants to know you, love you, that's something I would _kill_ for."

"You don't understand Reepicheep," Trufflehunter said, "he did more damage than just murder. He let me know of things I shouldn't have known. He- he told me secrets, secrets that involve-"

"Stop changing the subject." Reepicheep said cutting the badger off before he could finish, "Go let yourself be known, remove the fear of him from your heart, whatever that is, and make just amends and do it while you can! I don't have a father to consult. I don't have someone to say to me: 'I love you' or 'I'm proud of you'. _I don't have that._ I just have you and Tilden, you have a chance to change everything, I suggest you take it."

The mouse opened the door again.

"You are more deserving than me Reepicheep of his smile," Trufflehunter said. "I'll let you go first."

"He is not my father," Reepicheep answered, "he's yours."

"Abate Verge Ye How!"

Trufflehunter looked into his father's room and saw light emerge from the candles that resided there.

The room was bleak. The chairs and tables were dusty and spider ridden. The bed that was far too small for Marley were stripped of its covers, for they were on the floor, and if a poet were present, he would describe the place as a fallen rose pedal in the middle of a cemetery.

Marley himself was on the bed, feeling depressed and insecure.

"Trufflehunter," Marley said weakly with a cough as Trufflehunter and Reepicheep entered, "why do you keep me in this place?"

"Because you killed Byron." Trufflehunter said.

"I weep every day for him." Marley said with a tear. "I wish nothing more than to turn back time, but Aslan did not give me that ability so I'll have to settle for the present. Abate Verge Ye How!"

"What does that mean father?" Trufflehunter asked.

"I-I don't know, it's one of those repetitive phrases that comes and goes every now and again. Maybe I dreamed of it and it scared me." Marley replied.

Marley looked over at Reepicheep: "Why Chevrep, my old friend you are younger than I expected. Have you been to a wizard? If so, I would like to speak with him."

"I have been to nowhere of the sort Master Badger." Reepicheep said. "I don't deal in that business."

"You're not Chevrep-are you?" Marley said.

"No, I'm not, and if I am correct in my assumptions, then I am his son." Reepicheep answered.

"Chevrep never called me Master Badger. Only by my name. There was respect in first names back then. Nowadays it's all 'Master' this and 'Your Majesty' that. Pompous little bastards- that's what I say to those who speak that way. Abate Verge Ye How!"

"Of course sir." The mouse said with a smile, he learned how to take a joke but he secretly thought that Marley wasn't joking. He wasn't.

"Don't call me sir, just don't add anything to me, I am Marley, and that's all I'll ever be." Marley said.

Reepicheep nodded, making a mental note but then made a side note that it would be extremely difficult for him to remember those conditions.

"So," Marley said turning towards his son, "any news going about?"

"Miraz is beginning to build an army." Trufflehunter said.

"Ah, he'll never succeed."

"He's been successful in the south so I hear." Reepicheep said.

"But you forget that we have something he hasn't." Marley replied.

"What is that exactly?" Trufflehunter asked.

"What have I always told you Truff?"

"That faith is better than one thousand men." Trufflehunter answered.

"It's true." Marley said, he turned towards Reepicheep now:

"Has anyone ever told you that I used to be someone?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are still someone to someone else?" Reepicheep asked looking at Trufflehunter with a smile.

"No."Marley answered.

"That is also my answer," Reepicheep said, "no one has said that to me either."

"If you expect me to forgive him," Trufflehunter said, "I won't do it so easily."

"I don't expect you to do anything Trufflehunter." Reepicheep replied, stood up and in an admittedly impish and disrespectful way: forepaws outstretched in a 't' position, head up to the side slightly with a smile that said _'you deal with it'_.

"You slick little devil." Trufflehunter said masking his true thoughts of: _you son of a bitch_.

Reepicheep stood up, turned towards the badger, thanked him for the conversation and left the room swiftly.

* * *

"So..." Trufflehunter said, getting off to a bad start. "How are things?"

Marley looked at his son in a perplexed question. "I've been locked up in this room for ages and all you can say to me is 'how are things'? What a stupid moronic question!"

"Sorry, just trying to make small talk."

"Well," the father said coughing a bit, "you're not very good- at- it."

He coughed again, this time to where he collapsed on the floor and gasped for air. He was experiencing asphyxiation from being in the same room for too long, a lack of fresh air made this room unbearably stuffy for the elder badger and the hot air made it difficult for his lungs to circulate the needed oxygen. Trufflehunter rushed over to his father, turned him over and performed basic cardiopulmonary resuscitation, or CPR. He gave thirty chest compressions in rapid secession.

"Oh no," Trufflehunter said, "you're not dead yet." He tried rescue breathing, counted to three and restarted the procedure.

The elder badger was unmoving, his heart was dormant, he had fallen on the red rose pedal. The raindrop after the rainstorm that falls gently down the window pane, the one ray of light distinguishable in a sea of sun and clouds, the one reason to continue forward for Trufflehunter. For the elder badger, the one he called his father, was the only thing Trufflehunter had in terms of family, sure there was Reepicheep, but he was more of a brother than anything and for the first time the badger admitted that he was wrong.

"Oh what have I done!" Trufflehunter screamed to no one as he did the chest compressions again. "I denied your love for me as insanity, forgiveness is all I ask now but I fear it be too late." The badger performed a last effort to breathe life back into his father.

"Reepicheep!" Trufflehunter blared in distress, still continuing the procedures out of practice despite a loss of hope.

The mouse expedited through the door in response and continued his motion towards his friend. After a two second examination, Reepicheep checked the pulse- it was dormant.

"Truff," Reepicheep said, "he's gone."

Trufflehunter stopped the procedure, and stood up.

"I never felt so ashamed of myself," Trufflehunter said, "we barley started anything and he just- collapsed like that, almost as if it were involuntary."

"Death is involuntary most of the time." Reepicheep said.

"Shame it takes a death to have an epiphany."

"At least you're experiencing one." The mouse answered.

"I guess we better make preparations." The badger said.

"I'll let Tilden know of this as soon as I can," Reepicheep said, "I'm sure he'll want to be there."

"I would be insulted if he wasn't."

Trufflehunter and Reepicheep walked out silently, saying nothing more, leaving the room of the elderly badger alone to grief for itself.

* * *

"Truff," Reepicheep said as he took a chair in the living room, "what do you suppose the time is."

"I'd say it's roughly three o'clock in the morning." The badger said with a sigh.

"Are you tired yet?" The mouse asked.

"No, not at all, with the father business and everything and I believe it is rather rude to leave company unattended when it is not their house." The badger replied going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

"I noticed your satchel," Trufflehunter said, "where are you bound."

"I honestly don't know," Reepicheep answered, "wherever my father is I guess."

"Your father?" Trufflehunter asked a bit surprised that Reepicheep would go after something so obscure as his father. For the badger knew a great deal about him and for the better part of their seemingly lifelong friendship, the badger tried so hard to keep the topic of Reepicheep's father out of conversation.

"Want a cup of tea?" The badger asked.

"That would be most generous of you." Reepicheep said.

"Crème, sugar?"

"Both if you please." the mouse said, "Do you need some help with it?"

"It's tea Reep, not necessarily a conundrum."

The badger walked in with a tea tray filled with tea, a few cakes, with crème and sugar on the side.

"This was more than just a visit wasn't it?" Trufflehunter said grabbing his tea and fixing it to his liking.

"Of course it was." Reepicheep said, grabbing his tea for a moment, drinking it black and sitting it down quickly. "I came because of this."

The mouse pulled out the letter which was stuffed in the sack and handed it to the badger. Trufflehunter read it carefully.

"Yes," Trufflehunter said, "I was wondering when this inquiry would come around again." He sipped his tea and sat it down. "Come then, I need to show you something."

Trufflehunter lead him back to Marley's room. On top of the wardrobe in the corner was a large black suitcase. The badger reached up, grabbed the suitcase and carried it to the kitchen with Reepicheep close behind. Once there, he laid it on the table, unlocked it but did not open it.

"Now, what you are about to see," Trufflehunter said, "is something that only my father and I have seen. This is classified information, things that were left out of the court room for your father's sake. I do not know where this evidence came from but father assures me that it's true."

"How does he know? He could have be lying to you." Reepicheep said.

"Reepicheep, remember where my father is right now. I think I can trust his judgment, he was a lawyer after all."

"By the way this conversation is starting I can already tell where this is going." Reepicheep said.

"Believe me, no you don't." Trufflehunter said as he placed his forepaws on the latches, "Ready?"

The mouse nodded, the badger opened the case. When Reepicheep looked inside he shook his head, backed away in fear, tears slowly began to form.

"Oh Truff you brave soul how could stomach this!"

"Who said I did?" Trufflehunter asked. "I bore the same expression too."

"What brought this up for you?"

"I asked about it one day." The badger said. "Father told me everything."

Reepicheep looked towards his friend: "How innocent were you?"

"I'd say it was about the same time when your father left for good, a bit before perhaps." Trufflehunter said.

Reepicheep nodded and glanced back at the box again, "I think I'm going to be sick."

Trufflehunter rushed over and grabbed a pale and placed it near the mouse on the floor.

"Tell me everything you know," Reepicheep said, "but please close the case, I cannot bear the sight of loss anymore."

Trufflehunter nodded and did so.

"You must understand Reepicheep," Trufflehunter said, "that your father was secretive. Very, very secretive. He knew so many of secrets and had so many of them that even the wolves feared to speak to him for fear of exposure. He was also, an agent of the state, employed by-"

"Miraz?" Reepicheep asked, hopeful that it was the usurper so that the mouse could walk out of this hoping that his father was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was forced into something. That's what he wanted to believe anyway. That his father was a mouse of dignity, a mouse of honor, one that would do anything for his family-even risk his own moral foundation to see them live.

"No, unfortunately," Trufflehunter said walking back to the tea tray, " it was Caspian IX."

"The _ninth?_" Reepicheep asked a bit surprised.

"He had many enemies Reepicheep-"

"Do you mean to tell me that my father was in service to a king who saw his own people as enemies?"

"Yes." Trufflehunter said taking a quick drink of his tea, "At least in one light. We don't know the whole story, anyway, did Tilden tell you anything?"

"He said that he was a prisoner of war somewhere." Reepicheep said walking back over to his chair that he sat in before but not bothering to sit.

"Oh he's a prisoner of war alright, but he's _our_ prisoner."Trufflehunter said.

"I'm assuming you mean the rest of the resistance against Miraz?"

Trufflehunter nodded. "He has been for years, tried to continue his escapade a few times too. He almost killed me and my father once but then remembered who we were. He said that he owes a great service, because even though Marley didn't win his case, he was thankful for him. A pact was made, uniting our families in aid and brotherhood but it doesn't mean much now I suppose."

A drink of tea again.

"Your father was good at heart but not in the head."

"Good at heart?" Reepicheep said distraught, "He smelled burning rubber and heard the bursting of the heart from extreme heat. The blood boiled, the bones cracked, and those who were still breathing, had only deafening screams of sorrow covered by gas poison. He followed the hellish sounds for that was his career and found a pit of dead, naked deformed bodies twisted about themselves like devils. They are stretching out their hands to heaven, but heaven would not receive them. My father _is_ the Beelzebub of this situation. He practically held the fucking door open for Miraz to come and take over. How can you justify your means, that my father was good at heart, when he butchered children in their sleep? Their dreams interrupted, forever unfinished. Their foreheads dry from a warm kiss. Their sheets on their beds lay cold and barren now and no one mourns for them. The mothers are dead, the fathers are deranged like Marley was and the children suffer slowly, wither, and die with the mothers. Is this the world we live in now? Where that is an answer to a problem? If my father is on who you say, then I repudiate and wish great cancer on him."

The badger stood up and slapped the mouse hard on the cheek.

"You dare strike me like a dog?" Reepicheep asked with the same fury as his father.

"I'm sorry but you were talking out of your head." Trufflehunter said calmly.

"Really? How much out of my head was I!?" Reepicheep shouted. "I think your evidence proves your claims of my father's decency null."

Trufflehunter nodded and sighed: "I should've just kept my mouth shut."

"Yes," Reepicheep said, "you most certainly should have. Is there any more nasty business or are we to be on good terms because at the moment, you are starting to look very much like an incubus."

"You accuse me of treachery when I've told you nothing but truth!" Trufflehunter exclaimed, "I have always been your foster and faithful aide-de-camp!"

The badger advanced towards the mouse, feeling both insulted and betrayed.

The next thing Trufflehunter said would be a question that if were asked again, Reepicheep would answer something along the lines of 'Absolutely nothing' or 'he was my abettor so it gives me no reason to not trust him with everything.'

"What makes you think that I will ever mislead you _in anything_?"

"The simple fact that you did. You've been hiding this from me my entire life and only now when I inquire about it you relinquish it? Has it crossed your mind once before this?" Reepicheep asked.

"Yes it has." The badger said. "But each time I grew more and more against it."

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't matter!" Trufflehunter shouted. "Your father doesn't matter Reepicheep. You've been without him your entire life and are perfectly fine on your own. You don't need him anymore."

"Did Marley ever tell you that he loved you face to face?" Reepicheep asked.

Trufflehunter nodded. "Of course back before he went crazy."

"You had a father, you knew him at least for a little, I never knew mine. I never once been told what love was, what I meant to someone. Tilden doesn't count, he's supposed to tell me that sort of thing every day. But my parents never explicitly said the words 'I love you' in secession when referring to me. It was always broken up by something else, usually an excuse for behavior along the lines of: 'I simply just can't believe you did that Reepicheep, you almost killed me for the love of all humanity we have raised a boorish son.' That's about the closest thing I have ever gotten to those three simple necessary words that are so vital to the spirit. I never received that socialization and I probably never will."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." Trufflehunter said.

"No, you had the right, for I am a guest in your house." Reepicheep replied.

"If it's important to you," Trufflehunter said, "then who am I to say anything else about it."

* * *

"There was a letter that my brother wrote mentioning you. Said you had supplies ready for my father. Care to explain that?" The mouse asked, after a moment of indulging in his tea.

"I'm helping him leave the country." The badger said.

"He's a murderer." Reepicheep said..

"No, he is your father."

Reepicheep sighed with a heavy heart, stood up and pulled his blade on his friend, "You do realize that this is a form of moral treason to be an accomplice of a felon?"

"I do." Trufflehunter said. "But that was then and this is now. He's changed Reepicheep, and he loves you, he told me so himself. He said that he regrets everything he ever did and that he never wanted to hurt you."

"I think you're just covering yourself." Reepicheep replied and placed the blade at Trufflehunter's jugular vein, an inevitable fatality.

"Reepicheep please, you're being-"

"Anticlimactic?" The mouse asked.

"Well I was going to go for ridiculous," the badger said, "but your word is perfectly alright with me."

"Says the badger who locked his father in a spider closet."

The badger looked at him with a cold unforgiving expression. "You accuse me of playing jailer to my father but see no immoralities when you wish to play executioner to yours? How is that in anyway different?"

"It is entirely different." Reepicheep said. "I'm going to find my father, let him tell everything to my face and let my moral compass decide next."

"Your chivalry that guides said moral compass is astoundingly naive." Trufflehunter said. "Naivety mixed with misguided chivalrous efforts, last I checked, leads to false bearings on the compass leading you miles off course."

"You're making an enemy of me badger." Reepicheep said, realizing that his blade was still at the badger's neck. "Don't think I won't do it."

"Even though you forsook my name just now, I could have never asked a better friend to do so." The badger said as finished his tea, stood up, walked to a clear spot on the floor, kneeled down and submitted. Reepicheep followed and his blade resumed position.

"If you wish to do so then do so," the badger continued, "end me, send me off, complete my journey and me make a profanation in time but do me one kindness if you do so-"

The badger paused, he figured that if these were to be his last words to Reepicheep then he might as well make them summarize everything he ever wanted to say to him:

"Never do so again."

Reepicheep looked at his friend, who hinted a smile of forgiveness and understanding if he chose to go through with it, a loyal advocator who stood at the ready in defense for him and his family always. Someone who was just trying to make things a bit easier to bear was about thirty seconds from no longer being there for him. To vouch, the grief, to mourn, to succor.

The mouse remembered one particular creature from a story he read known as the phoenix. The mythical bird who could rejuvenate itself from the ashes after death. Looking upon Trufflehunter the mouse knew that his friend was not a phoenix, but simply a badger and that if he did decide to do so then Reepicheep would never be able to continue living with himself.

"Done." The mouse said and sheathed his blade.


	4. The Grief of a Mouse and Dwarf

**Chapter III: The Grief of a Mouse and Dwarf**

* * *

**Note: This chapter contains suggestive themes of genocide.**

* * *

"I don't suppose you'll reconsider my offer."

"As much as I would love to accompany you, I believe my duties lie in planning a funeral."

Trufflehunter was gracious enough to let Reepicheep spend the night there and after a morning tea and biscuit, the rodent asked if the badger would like to accompany him on his journey, after this, he stood in the badger's doorway, turned towards him and said:

"Do not disparage. The fault not lies with you."

"Yes it does Reepicheep," the badger replied, "if I only would have-"

"Done more, loved more, conversed more? All of these art fetches to say when in bargaining. If he looked at you with forgiveness, then all is forgiven."

"I wish I could believe that." Trufflehunter replied.

"Why don't you?"

"Because I-"

"Don't diminish yourself again!" The mouse shouted, "I refuse to stand in the doorway of someone who pities themselves."

"But it is my fault that he's dead Reepicheep!" Trufflehunter replied walking towards him," It's _my fault_. I'm going to have to live with that for the rest of my life!"

"You shouldn't blame yourself."

"But I do!"

Reepicheep sighed heavy, "Those who live in the past must also live with death and decay. That's the simplest truth in the world."

The badger nodded and began to turn to his affairs: "Good luck Reepicheep, I pray you find him soon."

The badger grabbed the supplies he was preparing in a bag and handed it off.

"Perhaps you could use these," Trufflehunter said, "no use to anyone if it sits around."

"Gramercy." Reepicheep replied as he placed the supplies in his own burlap sack.

"What does that word mean anyway- gramercy?"

"That word dear badger," Reepicheep said with a smile, "is all we need to say when we have learned everything we have come to know."

"Are you implying that we are scholars studying and examining the ordinary?"

"I'm implying dear badger that we were made for somewhere else. We are searching for feelings and emotions that are impossible acquire here: happiness, joy, love. If we can find the quintessence of such emotions then we shall have to look no further. We are in a hallway with doors, and in a room of our own choosing we witness the death of Death. We just have to keep searching."

"It would, if you find such a place, send for me." Trufflehunter said.

"Why dear fellow, you're walking the road that leads there, just keep walking!" The mouse said with a smile. He waved and continued on his way eastward.

* * *

"Reepicheep!" A voice called.

"Come about!" The mouse answered.

Nikabrik appeared as if he were running a marathon and has fallen victim to fatigue.

"Come...quickly."

"What betid?" The mouse asked.

"Best you see it for yourself." The dwarf said and quickly lead the mouse to the trouble.

Genocide befell him.

Along the river bank, the bulk of his people lay dead.

Reepicheep and Nikabrik took a walk, examining each cadaver and paying respects.

"They died by fire burns."

"Fire burns you say?" Reepicheep asked trying to keep his composure and noticing that Nikabrik was himself a bit burned.

"Yes sir," the dwarf said, "the Telmarines came in and burned everything. They all managed to get out but as you can see-"

"They burned alive. What a terrible way to go." Reepicheep said a tear forming.

Nikabrik sighed and lowered his head, "I'm sorry Reepicheep," he said, "I did what I could."

"I know Nikabrik." Reepicheep turned towards the dwarf, giving him a look of indifference:

"I know you must have charged in and finally be the hero you always wanted to be. I bet you feel pretty damn good about yourself don't you?"

"I don't understand, what are you-"

"I'm saying that you did absolutely nothing to help them!" The rodent cried. "My kin is dead, I don't blame you for that but you could have at least given a sacrifice."

"Well what did you want me to do? Throw myself in and die?"

Reepicheep didn't answer. He just walked down the line.

He passed old friends of his from childhood, grandparents, friends of the family, and every form of relation. He knew them all, especially the children.

Whenever he reached one of them he would close their eyes, kneel reverently and say:

_"May you rest easy."_

Eventually, Reepicheep reached his doorstep. He wanted so badly to open the door and discover that the place had not been touched, that his family was still alive. But he didn't knock on the door. He didn't need to.

"Tilden," he said, "I've never been so sorry."

His brother lay dead face down in the dirt, his back was unrecognizable. The fire had claimed his identity but Reepicheep knew without question who he was.

"The last we spoke," the mouse said kneeling, carefully turning his brother over so he could see his face.

"I questioned your parenting, saying that you were mentally inadequate to face the truth- that you were absent from Solomon's life. I have come to the consensus that you were not meant for him, you did not father him, you fathered me. You steered me towards your son and I was too blinded by the title of 'uncle' or 'brother' to see that. I do not regret my words but I do regret my deliverance of them."

He paused and controlled himself, he was beginning to tear up. After a moment of silence, he looked up at the sky and descended to anguish, pleading, and bargaining.

"I am confused, enchafed, and ashamed. Please have the mercy to reveal me peace. I beg of you, reveal me peace! I cannot live without it, my heart yearns for comfort. I cannot sleep knowing that he died because of my misunderstanding. I should have been there and wasn't. I should have died with them. Please, reveal me peace, for if i find none, then i will assuredly die."

Reepicheep sighed, closed his brother's eyes and kissed his forehead and gave the last rites:

"The darkness and disillusions of this world pass away, the light and inspiration of the next shall overtake you. May you never fall from there, and if you do, let me lift you up."

Reepicheep stood up and saluted his blade. "Fly on justice. Fly on."

Nikabrik walked up behind him when the moment had passed.

"They're heading north, if you hurry, you'll be able to catch them."

"I cannot seek vendetta," Reepicheep said, "it is against my conscious. Besides, I haven't found everyone yet."

"Who are you missing?" The dwarf asked.

"Solomon- if illness befall him, I doubt I'll survive the grief."

"Don't talk like that." Nikabrik said, "Keep the faith that he's alive for now until it's certain."

Reepicheep nodded, "Quite right, let's begin looking."

They searched the river bank. Up and down and up again. When the sun began to hit midday Nikabrik began to give up.

"Reepicheep, let's face facts, he's gone."

"I refuse to believe that Nikabrik, there's got to be somewhere we haven't looked."

"Where is there left to look Reepicheep!" The dwarf shouted, "We've searched the bank, we've searched the river, we've searched the houses, the bank on the other side and the bloody trees. Where are we supposed to look?"

Reepicheep shook his head, "I- I don't know. But I'm not giving up on him until I find him."

"You're wasting your time."

"I'm finding my nephew who is my son. Either you help me or you don't and if you don't then be gone and then let me grieve and then let me die."

Nikabrik nodded, "So be it."

The dwarf left the rodent to himself. Reepicheep listened to Nikabrik's footsteps, they were quick and uneasy. The mouse turned back. Rage, feral animalism, and devious desire took him over.

* * *

Nikabrik ran as fast as he could, knowing that at any moment, Reepicheep would catch up to him. He jumped over fallen trees and stormed through undergrowth behaving like a race horse. He would never run this fast again in his life.

When the dwarf got a considerable distance away he stopped to rest by a large oak tree that had a large root that curved up into an arch and down back into the ground. The dwarf rested in the shade of the arch's shadow.

"Let's...see..him try...that."

"Alright."

Nikabrik looked up and saw the mouse standin top of the root looking very pissed off.

"I have half a mind to let you live Nikabrik." Reepicheep said as calmly as he could.

"Now, now Reepicheep, let's not jump to conclusions here." The dwarf said scrambling to his feet.

"I believe the conclusion dear fellow is that you suffer from murderous psychopathy and are by definition an accomplice of genocide. Now," the mouse said wielding his blade, "I will give you time to explain yourself for I am not heartless but I'm afraid your time is very limited. Go!"

"Well you see, I was being blackmailed by the-"

"I don't very much care." Reepicheep said, "Get to the confession part please."

"Alright I did it, I killed your family."

"Thank you." Reepicheep said and threw his blade at the dwarf. It stuck him in the neck, the dwarf fell on his knees.

The mouse jumped down and landed perfectly on Nikabrik's shoulder. "Now I'm not going to kill you, for I will not stoop to your levels, but answer me this: where is Solomon?"

"I don't know. They didn't tell me much."

"I assume you mean-"

"Miraz, yes, he blackmailed me sir, said if I didn't do it then he would kill everyone."

"Why take such a risk?" Reepicheep asked.

"Your father is very important to him Reepicheep, he needs him now more than ever." Nikabrik said.

"My father no longer follows him."

Nikabrik laughed, "Been listening to Trufflehunter again?"

"He's your friend too, or at least he used to be." Reepicheep said.

"What do you mean, used to be?" The dwarf asked, a bit confused.

"Don't think I won't keep this from him."

"I don't expect you to, but just because your family is dead doesn't determine my friendship status with him."

"Actually," a voice said, "I think it does."

Trufflehunter emerged from the trees, carrying a bow and quiver on his back and a satchel on his side.

"You've been a very busy dwarf haven't you?" The badger said, smirking as readied a bow. "I believe an execution is in order."

He pulled on the drawstring.

"No Truff," Reepicheep said, "murder is never an absolute."

"But you just said that he committed genocide!"

"Yes," the mouse replied as he removed his sword, "but he wasn't alone in the deed." He jumped off the dwarf's shoulder.

Nikabrik winced and grabbed his wound.

"I'm sorry," the dwarf said, "I know those words aren't right but that's all I can say."

"That's all anyone can say and will say when death arises." Reepicheep said turning back towards him, "_I'm sorry._"

The mouse advanced towards him, not bothering to get close and personal. "Don't take my sparing your life an act of forgiveness Nikabrik. I will _never_ forgive you. If you come near my door I will turn you away, if you so much as go near that river I will personally hunt you down and skin you alive. If you so much as breathe the same air as me, I will, without question, remorse, or rites, end your life. As of this moment, I disown you of my sword. May the wolves feast upon you. Or better yet, let the crows do it."

"Why the crows?" The dwarf asked.

"Crows devour _everything_, and they don't do it quickly either."

Reepicheep left but before he disappeared, Nikabrik said:

"I buried those I could. I know it may be damned of me to say but I loved your family. Every single one of them."

"There was a time when love meant having great veneration." Reepicheep said.

A stern look in his eye developed as his shoulder was beginning to freeze over. He turned towards the sunlight, sighed a moment and resumed speaking.

"There was a sense of pride, poise, honor about it- when it meant something beautiful. Now love is tantamount for annihilation. I suppose whenever we cry we'll have you to thank- for breaking our hearts and stealing our capability and comprehension of love. Tell me are there any other words of value you would like to change? Chivalry, Honor, Bravery, or Reverence perhaps?Those are choice words, adept words, words that can mean anything now that love is dead. Are we to live in world where everything is antithesis? Love is murder, murder is benevolent, benevolent is cruel, cruel is worthy, worthiness is dead along with chivalry which is cowardice and cowardice is admired. What kind of world is that Nikabrik? Narcissistic anarchists are the harbingers of war. They always carry a lit match."

"You're breaking my heart Reepicheep." Nikabrik said, crying over his actions.

"Don't you dare grieve for it be not your place!" The mouse cried in rage. "You didn't lose everything this morning!"

"I lost my soul Reep," the dwarf, said, "it died with the fire. You might as well just kill me. For everything you say is true. I'm a coward, a murderer, a worthless waste of time. I'm sorry for the trouble. I don't expect you to forgive me, I do expect you to kill me though."

Reepicheep shook his head. "I won't give you satisfaction."

"Then let me grieve and then let me die." Nikabrik said.

The mouse nodded, "As you wish."

Reepicheep and Trufflehunter were silent as they walked away, they wanted to hear Nikabrik's heart break.

The dwarf cried and sat in this sate of pity for three hours.

When Reepicheep and Trufflehunter returned to the badger's burrow that day, Nikabrik passed away. The last words he said were:

_Tell him I'm sorry._


	5. Out of the Smoke, Into the Flame

**Chapter IV: Out of the Smoke, Into the Flame**

"Read it back to me."

"I am sorry to report that I am unable to fulfill the duty requested of me on the account that I have been captured, tortured and interrogated by insurgent forces. I'm sorry but you'll have to find the information on your own. Your son seems like a nice boy."

"Good, send a raven to him."

"You're an owl," The reader of the letter, Aurelius, a general in Miraz's cavalry said. "why can't you deliver it?"

"Because," the owl said, "I'm stuck in this fucking cage!"

Kashmir, or to be more specific than that, King Kashmir, was a great horned owl of normal proportions, that is, sixty-three centimeters high with a nearly five foot wingspan. His feathers were a deep mahogany, and lovely sable with tufts of hoary for highlights. His eyes were gold vermilion, his beak was ebony and his talons were taupe.

"I've been in this fucking thing for seventeen fucking days! I'm fatigued, miserable, dehydrated, it's like Black Dolphin all over again."

"I don't understand that reference but enough with the curses. You make a sailor want to cringe."

Kashmir reached for his iron bars of solitude with his right talon and clenched it. The bar shook and bowed down to his mercy. The only thing that was keeping the owl constrained was a single shackle and chain. The chain was around his left talon which was connected to a tree and the cage itself was connected to a branch on said tree via chain. He was about five feet off the ground.

Aurelius, who sat on a log with the short letter, stood up nonchalantly with a tinge of uneasiness for he heard the bar submit and was fearful of the same force coming down on his skull.

"If you could do that," a voice said, "then why didn't you leave?"

"I didn't leave," Kashmir replied, "because I didn't necessarily have a choice, whoever it is that is speaking to-"

The voice's owner revealed himself, smiling as he came behind Aurelius.

"Chevrep!" Kashmir cried with excitement, "Oh thank the lion's mane you're alright. I thought you were dead."

"Dead," the mouse laughed, "what have they been filling your head with?"

"Lies apparently, but- where were you, weren't you captured too?"

"I was, by the same group, they kept us out of sight of each other-for a good reason."

"In any case, it's great to see you," Kashmir said, "now, do you mind lending an old friend a hand?"

"Sorry I'm afraid I can't do that Your Majesty." Chevrep said, "politics and all."

"Politics?" Kashmir said a bit confused, "The only political issue here is me. I've been hogtied and tourutred by my own supporters because of you. I did this for you!"

"Yes," Chevrep said smiling a bit, "and what a splendid job you did too. What was your plan exactly? Getting me out of this country and smuggle me into yours? I'll be dead anyway."

"No you won't." Kashmir said, "I'm the King remember, they'll listen to me."

"They'll kill you." Chevrep replied, "I'll laugh when your people abandon you too. Do you honestly think that they'll give a damn about an outsider in the end?"

"Chevrep, this isn't you. Come on, stop talking out of your head and get me out of here!"

"Aurelius," Chevrep said, "you know what to do."

The captain nodded and produced a scalping knife.

Kashmir fidgeted a bit, "Chevrep, Aurelius, what are you doing?"

"Nothing personal Your Majesty," Aurelius said, moving a bit closer, "politics and all."

"What are you doing?" Kashmir's face turned fearful. If there was one thing he despised it was tools of destruction.

Aurelius grabbed the cage and shook it violently, the bird cowered in fear.

"Oh," the captain said, "is the King afraid of death?"

"No," Kashmir said, "I'm just afraid of killing you."

Aurelius reached in slowly and carefully, "Now, just relax, this isn't going to hurt a bit."

The bird brutally grabbed Aurelius's wrist with his talon. The man winced and tried his best not to scream. Kashmir pulled him in, "You just to have honor, what happened to it Aurelius?"

"War." Aurelius said struggling to breathe. "Thanks for destroying my hand."

"I used to call you Marcus," Kashmir said, "do you remember that?"

Aurelius dropped his knife. "Yes," he said, "I remember that, now can you please let me go."

"Promise me something." The bird said keeping his eye on Chevrep who slowly began to scale the tree behind the cage.

"What?" Aurelius asked.

"Never do so again."

"Never," Aurelius moved his hand a little, trying to circulate what little blood there was left. "do what again?"

"Bargain with the devil." Kashmir released him.

Aurelius fell over, landing on the ground desperately trying to hold his hand together which was a mauled cadaver. Blood spewed out in spurts and the overall pain was astronomical.

"Kashmir," Aurelius cried, "I told you it was nothing personal!"

"What was it you said," Kashmir looked at him, "politics and all? This is the 'all' part."

Chevrep entered the cage as stealthy as he could, he wielded his blade.

"Are you sure about that?" Kashmir asked.

"Yes," Chevrep said stopping, "I'm sure about it."

"What exactly," Kashmir said, grabbing the scalping knife, "do you plan to do moi droog?"

"If I told you that I would spare you," Chevrep said, "then I would be lying."

Kashmir turned around towards him, weapon in claw. "You know that this," he waved the knife, "is a dishonor?"

"A dishonor!" Chevrep laughed, "You are the dishonor Kashmir. The bastard son of a bastard."

The owl moved his knife toward the mouse, micrometers from impaling him.

"Ambitiously daring are we?" Chevrep said laughing, more despicably this time.

"This isn't you Chev," Kashmir leaned down more to his level, "where is the friend I once knew?"

"Dead and buried with the fire," Chevrep turned his gaze southward towards his house, "I hope."

"The fire," Kashmir said, "was an act of malice! Was it from your heart?"

"I beg your pardon?" Chevrep asked, playing the idiot.

"Don't be coy with me mouse!" the owl cried, "Was the fire from your heart?"

"If you're implying that I wished it upon my kin then you are sorely mistaken."

"Was that from your heart too?" The owl asked, "Your mistakenness of self? Was that from your heart, or was it from your head, trying to play a manipulative game of chess?"

"You're talking like a nobleman Kashmir." Chevrep said, "That most certainly isn't the fire I knew in you many years ago. I guess the mannerisms of your position have grown on you."

"You have guessed correctly moi droog." Kashmir answered.

"Funny," Chevrep said as he jumped onto the knife, unafraid of it, for he had conditioned himself to withstand pain, "how you associate that phrase with me." He raised his eyebrows condescendingly, "Moi droog."

Kashmir reverted to his nature. He bent down and attempted to devour him. The mouse however was well adept to this situation and stuck his blade up in the air and slashed Kashmir's beak. The bird cried in pain, dropping the knife and backed up all the way to the iron bars.

"What's the matter?" Chevrep said, advancing toward him, "Afraid of a mouse?"

The King did not answer. He simply took a moment to think about his next move.

_What does Chevrep hate more than anything in the world?_ He thought.

"Well are you going to do something or just-"

The owl lifted his wings in a heraldic rising position and beat them against the cage floor generating a deafening high pitched frequency. The cage shook in fury Chevrep gave in and submitted, covering his ears and pleading that his friend be merciful.

"It was all business!" Chevrep said. "I never meant to-"

"To denounce my love for you?" Kashmir stopped his taunting. The cage stopped moving. "Chevrep, I loved you like a brother. I came to rescue you."

"Why?" The mouse asked, "I don't need saving."

The owl advanced, the chain clanked ghoulishly against the metal, "They were going to execute you. I knew I wouldn't be able to bear that."

"Well, your sacrifice has been for nothing." Chevrep said, confidence regaining. "I am happy where I am, in my position and in my country. To be honest Kashmir-"

"It's King to you, you arrogant piece of shit!" The owl bent over, his vermilion eyes searched for the answer. He cocked his head as if he were performing a thorough examination. "There's something in you, something sinister."

"Really?" Chevrep said hinting sarcasm, "Let's see if this rings a bell. De fumo in flammam."

The owl grabbed the mouse's neck and screeched, the leaves of trees blew from the branches, the earth cracked and the new tectonic plates were formed. As the earth shifted around into uncertainty, Kashmir's brow furrowed deeper and deeper to the point where Chevrep thought that his jugular would burst. His eyes burned with passion, his voice a deep thunder.

"How dare you threaten me with death you fucking swine!" He screeched again, the world grew silent and still again.

"Kashmir, your spectacle only makes my reasoning stronger." Chevrep said. "You think that I was simply employed by a king who thought his people were against him?" He laughed, "You don't know the first thing about politics do you?"

"I know," Kashmir said, "that you're in way over your head Chevrep. You do realize that if you send them here, they will consume the world."

"Which is why," Chevrep said, "you're going to do it yourself."

"What, send them over?"

Chevrep nodded, "You see, you've negotiated with these people before, they'll listen to you, just like you said. It is your Kingdom that they're living in after all. What is the place called again, Tu'Famaren?"

"If you think that I'm going to allow the destruction of the-"

"Oh, I believe you'll have no choice." Chevrep said.

"Why is that?"

"You'll figure it out Kashmir, in the meantime," the owl loosened his grip, the mouse took advantage of the opportunity, "you'll just have to bleed!"

Chevrep stabbed Kashmir's left talon, the blade went clean through. Kashmir screamed in pain and buckled down, letting the mouse go. Chevrep then scaled the back of the bird and proceeded to scalp him.

"You know it's a dishonor!" Kashmir cried, pleading with him to stop the pain. Chevrep ignored him, he just continued slicing feathers away and then the sawing started. Kashmir's brain functions began to go, his eyes began to close, his will to fight had diminished but his screams of mercy were carried with the wind.

The King was dead...presumably.

* * *

**A/N: **Kashmir is inspired by the Bibilical Samson.


End file.
